by Karen Kay
Now it was Tahiska’s turn to feel ill at ease. With the tray between them, he also could not communicate.
He passed the tray to Wahtapah, who had to be persuaded to take it.
“It is not our custom to feast midday,” Tahiska was able to sign. “But we do not wish to offend you. If this is something you desire, we will join you.”
Kristina smiled and gestured, “We wish it.”
She whirled around, her scan searching for a private place to sit. She observed that none of the three Indians returned her smile. But after their previous visits to the garrison, she should expect this. She had noticed that whenever these Indians were about the fort, they were watchful, on guard, and often moody.
Kristina discovered a spot in the shade of the trading post’s walls, and after pointing it out, she carefully followed the Indians to it. She also let Wahtapah carry the food tray, observing his obvious discomfort at doing what the Indian considered a demeaning task. But he said not a word.
Kristina had chosen this spot well. It was set away from the officers and soldiers and provided her some privacy so that she could speak with the Indians. She had many things she wished to discuss with Tahiska. She was not unaware of the disdainful stares and even a few hateful scowls of several white people. She hoped the Indians did not observe this.
The Indians sat upon the ground, while Kristina was able to perch on a nearby step.
The food was set before them, but not one of them seemed inclined to eat. Kristina gestured toward the food. “Please eat,” she signed. “I have brought this food for you.”
All three Indians exchanged a glance. Finally, Tahiska ate a small portion of the food. Wahtapah and Neeheeowee followed his lead, but they left most of the meat and vegetables untouched, eating only enough to honor her request.
Kristina gazed at them in amazement. Since she had come to the fort, most of the Indians she was acquainted with ate with ferocious appetites, eating almost to the point of gluttony.
Tahiska interrupted her observation.
“We are finished,” he signed. “You may have the rest or it can be shared with another.”
“There is plenty,” she said, scooping her hands upward.
“We are finished! Would you have us eat while others go hungry? In our village we leave most of the food for our women, our children, and our elders.”
“May we join you?”
Startled, Kristina glanced up to see Julia, accompanied by Kenneth Wilson. She wondered if Tahiska would recognize the officer, and she became slightly uncomfortable. But short of being rude, there was little she could do. Besides, this was Julia’s gesture of friendship. No matter what, Julia was stating overtly that she would sanction her friend’s actions.
Kristina grinned warmly at her friend. “Yes, please. Sit with us.”
Kenneth produced a blanket and spread it over the ground. Then, with exaggerated courtesy, he helped Julia to the ground, even to the extent of helping her arrange her skirts. He disappeared, only to return a moment later with three plates of food. One he handed to Julia, another to Kristina, and he kept the third plate for himself.
As they began to eat, Kristina beheld the Indians’ stunned silence. Though not a single emotion showed on their faces, Kristina could perceive their surprise. Culture clash, she thought. She had learned much about the Indian from Many Moons and she knew that Indian men never ate with women. Such would be considered degrading.
To their credit, though, the Indians said nothing, signed nothing. The atmosphere grew tense. Even Kenneth was aware of it, and he eyed the Indians with disgust.
“Tell the savages to look away.”
“What?” Both Kristina and Julia gaped at the man.
“I can’t eat with them looking at me like hungry dogs. Drunken savages. Tell them either to look away or go away.”
“Kenneth!” Julia slapped his knee.
Kristina’s chin shot up. “They’re not savages. I have never seen them drink, and they’re not dogs. They are here as guests, and if you persist in this sort of conversation, I’ll have to ask you to go away.”
Kenneth shot Kristina a glare and Tahiska jumped to his feet, his hand on his sheathed knife. He didn’t know what was said, but he knew an insult when it was directed at him. The soldier obviously didn’t like Indians, but Tahiska would allow no one, absolutely no one, to look at Kristina in such a manner.
Kenneth stared at the Indian with a mixture of contempt and fear. Slowly the soldier stood. He waved a hand at the Indian as if to say, “sorry,” then slowly returned to his seat.
Julia ground her elbow into Kenneth’s side, and frowning, whispered at him to keep his tongue. Kenneth merely shrugged and continued his meal.
Slowly, his stare still upon the soldier, Tahiska sank to the ground. But his body was still poised, ready to act at any given moment.
Kristina gazed at Tahiska, then voiced, “I’m sorry.” She shrugged and then smiled, stating as clearly as possible that the soldier’s impertinence meant nothing to her.
Tahiska nodded, finally settling back.
Kristina left most of her food untouched. She had lost her appetite.
“Are you finished, Kristina, Julia?” Kenneth asked.
“Yes.” Kristina looked up helplessly. Julia, it seemed, suffered from the same malady as Kristina.
“Then pass me your plates.”
Both women obliged and the young officer began scraping the remains of their food onto his own plate.
It was more than Tahiska could stand. To the Plains Indians, sharing whatever one possessed marked the attributes of a generous and great man. Indian men never satisfied their own appetites at the expense of others. “Does the white man not care about the weaker ones?” His tone was contemptuous. “Is he so selfish that he lets those less fortunate go without?”
Kenneth’s gaze sprang up. “What did the savage dog say?”
He glared his dislike at Tahiska.
“Kenneth! Be quiet!” Julia once again jabbed her elbow into his side.
“I think…” Kristina started, but Tahiska quieted her with a gesture and jumped to his feet. He would let no woman fight his battles. Besides, he did not like the way this soldier glowered at Kristina.
Kenneth leaped up in response and the two men scowled at one another like two bucks.
“Why does the white man eat with women?” Tahiska blazed in Lakota. “Why parade himself as a man, yet demean himself by doing women’s work? Can he not make up his mind? Is he man or woman?”
“Speak English, you…”
“That’s enough, Kenneth Wilson.” Julia’s tone of voice said she meant it. She jumped to her feet, placing herself directly in front of the young officer. “I think you’ve lost all sense. If you find it impossible to be civil, then it’s time we left. And if you don’t apologize to Kristina and to these Indians this very minute, I promise you I will never speak to you again.”
Kenneth warred with himself. It was plainly read in his features. He breathed out heavily several times. Finally, he relented. He visibly relaxed, and glancing at Kristina alone, he said, “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t look it. And he didn’t gaze once at the Indians. Without smiling, he spun away, muttering to himself and leaving Julia to somehow put things right.
She smiled at her friend and then at the Indians. She cast her eyes down, then at length, she said, “I’m so very sorry. I didn’t intend any of this.” And turning, she fled.
Tahiska rose to his feet in a fluid motion no white man could duplicate. His two companions followed. He wished to cause Kristina no more trouble. It was obvious that his very presence had caused difficulty.
“We go now,” he stated. “Ake wancinyankin ktelo.”
“No.” Kristina rushed to her feet. “Please stay.” Kristina implored, then switched to sign. “Don’t leave because of him. He’s just a troublemaker. No one else feels this way. Please stay. I want you to stay. Besides, there will be a party and a dance later.”
/> Tahiska knew he should leave, but the prospect of seeing more of Kristina was so pleasant and she looked so good that he could think of no real reason why he should not indulge himself. With a quick glance at his friends, Tahiska signed, “We will stay.”
And looking down upon Kristina, he had the pleasure of witnessing her smile.
“Wendall, why is our daughter talking with those savages?”
Major Wendall Bogard glanced at his wife and then, following her line of vision, at Kristina. His daughter was deep into conversation with the three Indians. They all appeared to be on a friendly basis.
He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. He hadn’t apprised his wife of the predicament the colonel had created for Kristina.
“Now don’t go gettin’ upset, Maggie.” The major settled his arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her into his embrace. “I guess I should have told you sooner.”
“Told me what?” Margaret Bogard bristled. “And I prefer Margaret…”
“I know. I know.” The major looked skyward. He squinted his eyes. Then, taking a deep breath, he plunged, “She’s acting as their interpreter.”
“What!?”
“Come here.” Major Bogard trod forward, sweeping his wife along beside him. He approached their quarters, and throwing open the door, stepped inside. “Sit down, Maggie.” He helped her into a chair and when she was seated, he squatted down beside her. “Colonel Wheeling made a mistake the other day. He brought Kristina in as their interpreter. At first the Indians were insulted, but Kristina somehow smoothed it over, and they accepted her. By the time I arrived, there was no extricating her from the situation. It’s become a point of honor with them. They’re Sioux, Maggie. I can’t afford to further insult them.”
Margaret Bogard’s complexion lost its color. Her eyes stared straight ahead. Her lips were firm and set.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. She closed her mouth, took a steadying breath and relaxed back against the chair.
“I knew it!” she said at length. “Kristina’s always had a weakness toward these savages. And only the good Lord knows why. I should never have allowed her to learn that awful sign language from her nanny. I should never have allowed her to have an Indian nanny in the first place. But I never knew what Many Moons was teaching her. Why, oh why did I follow you to Pennsylvania? If I’d had Kristina back east where we both belong none of this would be happening.”
“Now, Maggie. None of this is your fault or even mine. It’s a bad situation we’ve got to see through.”
“I’ll lock her in her room!”
Major Bogard grasped her hands in his own. “Don’t be silly. And it’s not so bad, Maggie. We need Kristina now. The Indians appear to like her and will listen only to her. Besides, those Indians are men of honor. The term ‘savage’ does not apply to them. They have given me their word that no harm will come to Kristina under their care. Their word is a sacred vow. They would each one give their life before allowing harm to come to Kristina.”
“Ha!”
“Maggie, please,” Major Bogard rushed on as though his wife had not spoken. “One of the Indians did save her only three weeks ago. Don’t you remember Kristina’s accident? The Indian risked his life to save hers. She would have been killed if he hadn’t acted. Besides, they rarely come to the fort, and when they’re here I am usually able to accompany Kristina. I trust them.”
Maggie closed her eyes. She hadn’t really heard him. She knew about savages. They were dirty, they were drunken, they were filthy and cruel. And her daughter was associating with them. It was shameful. The other officer’s wives would talk. How could she, a major’s wife, ever lift her head amongst these people again?
“I want it known to all that Kristina is acting under a duty imposed upon her by Colonel Wheeling.” Maggie clutched at his hands. “Will you at least do that for me, Wendall?”
“It’s already known. She’s greatly admired.”
Margaret Bogard nodded. There was a particular repugnance in her eye as she added, “I wish to the Lord that we had never come to this godforsaken place.”
Not another word was said. Major Bogard stared at his wife for a long time, wishing he could instill some of his thoughts within her. He admired the Indians. He no longer feared them. He trusted them and respected them. He knew better than most that it took a strong man to be honest, to hold onto his convictions in the face of adversity.
Noting that Maggie’s breathing had become even, Wendall Bogard rose and, with a lingering glance at his wife, quietly slipped out the door.
Chapter Six
For the next few hours, Kristina accompanied Tahiska and his friends as they strolled leisurely about the fort. Major Bogard had disappeared and with all the busy preparations, no one seemed to notice the lone, unchaperoned girl following behind the three Indians. Complying with their customs, Kristina lagged behind and so she didn’t notice their quick, visual examination of every building. They even paced behind buildings, down alleys, and all around the garrison’s walls.
Kristina, lost in her own thoughts, followed the Indians aimlessly. She refrained from making conversation and preferred, in fact, to keep her gaze down for fear that her attention would be drawn to the irresistible sight of one particular Indian’s backside.
Kristina was appalled by the scandalous nature of her musings. She wanted to touch him. She yearned to feel his arms around her. She ached to have him close. Sometimes when he turned to her to convey something in sign, she would stare at his hands, remembering their feel upon her, and she would shake. These feelings were foreign to her, but once they had invaded her consciousness, she couldn’t seem to stop them. Sometimes she would catch his eye, and despite herself, her body would beg him to embrace her. He never did. And if he knew of her longing, or if he himself felt the same, he never showed it. In fact, Kristina decided she might have dreamed those moments in his arms, for there was no emotion, no desire to be read upon his features.
Tahiska, however, was more than aware of Kristina’s thoughts. He read the desire in her eyes so easily, it was almost his undoing. His willpower was sorely tested and only through tremendous effort was he able to keep his own desire at bay.
He yearned to take her in his arms and satisfy her right here and now. But he could not. There were other people about, not to mention his own friends. His only defense was to fix his attention on the things around him. Only in this way could he hide his passion beneath an expression that showed nothing.
“I must go,” Kristina voiced to gain the Indians’ attention, and when they turned back to her she repeated the message in sign.
“Why?” Tahiska asked.
“I play music with the band so that others can dance, and they are ready to begin.” She held up her hand in salutation. “I must leave.”
“Hiya!” Tahiska grasped her hand when she would have turned away. Then, he signed, “Wait.”
They were behind some buildings, the Indians scrutinizing each structure. No one was around, and with a few words to his friends, Tahiska drew Kristina around a corner where two of the buildings, close together, created shadows between them. He pulled her into their shade and, removing a necklace he wore, he pushed it into her hands. But before she could see what it was, the back of his fingers caressed her cheeks. In slow motion, his head descended till his cheek replaced the touch of his fingers. He turned his head, his lips finding hers. The kiss was as sweet as wild honey, but over too quickly.
Straightening away, he said, “Ake wancinyankin ktelo,” and was gone.
He moved so quickly and so silently that Kristina couldn’t recall his leaving. She held the gift to her. It was still warm from his body heat and scented from his skin. A shiver of pleasure ran over her. She gazed at the gift. On a soft deerskin cord hung a rabbit’s foot, small, furry, delicate and recently made.
It was beautiful. Its giver was even more so. She touched the necklace to her lips and drew it on, tucking it between her breasts
. The present was given spontaneously by a man who was as wild and free as the eagle flies.
Tears pooled in her eyes. What had he just said? My desire…my heart? You have won my desire? Or was it my heart? She closed her eyes, vowing to herself to learn his language at the first opportunity.
After Kristina left, the three Indians scoured the fort, memorizing each building and passageway, examining each station and post.
Their meticulous scrutiny uncovered many hiding places. They stashed knives, lances—any weapon they had in these little nooks. It was necessary in case the Indians needed to defend themselves. It was also remarkably easy to accomplish this since no soldiers were lingering to watch.
Tahiska had observed that the soldiers disarmed Indians whenever they entered the fort. Yet not so the trappers nor any other white men, who, upon entering the fort, maintained possession of their weapons at all times. Were these soldiers and white men afraid? He could think of no other reason that these men would insist on such an unfair advantage. To even his worst enemy Tahiska would allow a weapon to protect himself. There was no honor in killing the defenseless. There was no honor in killing from a distance. There was no honor in unprovoked killing. Only in defense or in vengeance could one slay another honorably, and only then if one’s enemy had the chance to fight back.
Did the white man not know this? Or was he too fearful?
Tahiska decided it was the latter and made a mental note to be careful of his back.
Kristina loved music. She excelled in it, which was why she played the piano for the balls, accompanied the choir in church, sang at most occasions, and dabbled on the guitar. That she could harmonize and follow chord progressions yet never challenge the band leader earned her the right to play in the band.
Seated on a chair near the back of the makeshift stage, Kristina picked up her guitar and joined the fiddler, the banjoist, and the harmonica player, who doubled as the percussionist. She filled in chords as needed and sometimes sang harmony, but she was basically relegated to the rear of the platform and left the stage only to dance an occasional number herself. At those times the others in the band just struggled along without her.